And Just Forget The World
by Iamnotwhoisay
Summary: Soul and Maka have a run in with amnesia.
1. Chapter 1

**CH 1**

"MAKA!" Soul screamed, and suddenly they were falling.

* * *

Darkness swam through her vision as Maka tried to open up her eyes. She moaned. _What happened, _she wondered, trying to sit up. Rubbing her eyes, she found her view was riddled with black spots that danced before her. She shut them tightly, trying to wish the uncertainty away, then slowly opened her eyes again.

Her first thought was: _Where the hell am I?_ She was lying down in bed facing a softly colored pink and purple room. A couple of windows line the walls, and a large bookshelf and desk faced opposite her. A large, shockingly pink wardrobe loomed slightly over her bed, and on the windowsill next her to was a small, unrecognizable stuffed animal. Books were scattered throughout the room; piles of them cluttering any empty surfaces. The floor was tiled and- like most of the room- pink, and on the wall were a thoroughly marked calendar and a small piece of paper with the words "Beat Ox!" printed somewhat hastily across it. Maka blinked. She still had no idea where she was, but an even more important question crossed her mind: _How did I get here?_

* * *

It all happened so fast. One second they were flying, testing out Maka's newfound Grigori soul abilities, and the next, Maka was falling out of the sky, nearly a thousand feet in the air. The reason was obvious; there had been a sudden break in the resonance. (Now _how_ that happened, Soul could only guess.) He had screamed out when he felt the break- it was as if his soul shattered as well as the connection. Maka plummeted to the ground as Soul watched, unable to help, for he was falling himself. Luckily, Black*Star and Tsubaki were practicing in the approximate vicinity of them, and using a combination of skill and accuracy they were able to slow her fall, but not prevent a nearly fatal blow to the back of head. Soul, on the other hand, didn't fare so well. They were flying near a small mountain range, and while Maka fell the maximum distance, Soul landed on a small outcropping with a _thud_.

He blacked out soon after, and woke up a two days later in a hospital room. At first, he was confused, but the memory of Maka falling returned like a knife to the heart. Nurses gathered around when he woke up, but he pushed them all aside.

"Maka…." He whispered, tears prickling his eyes. He tried to sit up, but pain made him cry out and he lied back down, grimacing.

"Oh, dear, he's awake," a blonde nurse said. She smiled. "Lie down, sweetie, you're still incapacitated. You had quite a fall. Cracked ribs, a few bruised bones, and any odd number of lacerations and contusions."

"Lacer-whats?" Soul grumbled, his arm over his face.

"It's a fancy term for 'cuts and bruises,'" the nurse said, patting his head. "Now what were you saying about this Maka?"

Soul moaned in pain. "We- we fell and she fell and oh man-" his voice rising with panic.

"Shh…" The nurse comforted. "We've been informed of your situation. It's okay; your pretty little friend is still alive. She did get hurt something awful-"

Soul almost sat up again, shocked, but the nurse held him firmly down. "And while she has a concussion and is still comatose, her vitals are positive. She'll be fine."

"Thank goodness…." Soul sighed in relief. "Do you know when… when I can see her?" he mumbled, his face reddening.

"Soon, but now you need to rest and get better," she soothed.

Soul whispered something unintelligible before falling into a deep sleep.

The next time he woke up, he felt better. Sun streamed through and open window, and a small vase of flowers stood on the makeshift hospital nightstand. A card next to the flowers read "Get Well Soon!". Unfortunately, his entire midsection was bandaged, and his left arm was cradled in a sling. Soul's only thoughts consisted of Maka, and if she had woken up. He attempted to sit up, being careful of his arm and his fragile chest. His ribs ached painfully, but it was in dull comparison to the last time.

Soul looked around. No nurses were present at the moment, so he slid out of the bed, wincing as the pain surged. He limped to the door and opened it ever so slightly. Peeking out, he saw a door at the end of the hallway that was labeled "**ICU-Nurses Only**". Soul figured it was the best place to start, so the tiptoed to the door and let himself in.

He spotted Maka right away. She was lying on a hospital bed similar to his, but she was obviously in need of urgent care. Tubes streamed in and out of the covers, connecting to multiple machines that checked her heart rate, blood pressure, and who knows what else. Cards lined her bedside table, and wilting flowers shed petals on her pillow. Her head was bandaged, and her hair, usually in pigtails, was spread out behind her, a sweeping mess of ash blonde.

Soul's heart broke when he saw her face. She was sleeping, but he could still see sadness lighting up her features. Overall, she looked broken. Strong, brave, fierce, courageous, loyal, smart, Maka showed defeat.

He knelt down next to her. "Maka," Soul whispered, shedding his tough guy act. "Can you hear me? Please be okay, Maka, please." Tears streamed down his face.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming towards Maka's curtained area. He stood- a little too hastily- causing a stab of pain in his, well, everywhere. He wiped his eyes.

Soul glanced around, and then faced Maka again. "I'll come back and visit you, I promise," he said, taking one last look before he slipped out.

The next few days were grueling. Soul, still supposedly on bed rest, was only allowed to see Maka once a day. The ICU (for family only) allowed Soul in as an exception, but Spirit (her dad) was constantly by her bedside, talking to her and holding her hand. Every time Soul came to visit, Spirit would try to start a lighthearted conversation, but all attempts ultimately failed and Spirit went back to fussing over Maka (fluffing her pillows, stroking her hair, straightening her blankets, anything to slightly improve her comfort), while Soul just watched, a hard determination in his eyes.

After a week, he was told Maka woken up, and that they could return home on with strict parental guidance (provided by Maka's father, of course) and a nurse that would live with them until Maka was in a more stable condition. Soul, finally in good spirits because the release from the hospital, slept soundly for the first time since the fall.

* * *

_ How did I get here?_ Maka thought, with varying degrees of uncertainty. The room had an air of familiarity to it, which Maka couldn't quite place her finger on. She decided to investigate and see if she could figure out where she was, or, at least, who's room it was.

She sat up, and almost cried out. Her head throbbed and her abdomen ached. Her vision swam with tears as she silently screamed, trying to get a grip on whatever was threatening to plunge her back into blackness. Maka gingerly brushed her tears away, and, more slowly this time, shifted so her feet were touching the floor. With extreme caution and leisure, she stood up. Her head spun for minute and she had to place a hand on her bed to steady herself, but eventually her world reoriented itself and she set to work.

She tiptoed over the cool tiled floor to the desk. It was obviously used quite a bit. There was a stack of books on the left side (at least six high), and a row of books placed in alphabetical order on the windowsill just above it. Aside from the books, a yellow lamp sat on the left corner of the small table, and there was white a cup of assorted pencils and pens. Next to the writing utensils was a framed postcard; a picture of a Middle Eastern desert setting with a word written in what seemed to be Arabic. Maka removed it from the pale yellow frame and turned it over. On the back was a short message written in a ladylike scrawl.

_Dearest Maka, _it read. She nodded thoughtfully. _So the room belongs to a girl named "Maka"_, she thought. She continued to read.

_I hope you are doing well, darling. I am having a wonderful time myself, though not a day goes by when I don't think about you. It is for the better that I stay distant for the time being, but I'd like to see you again soon. I pray your father isn't giving you too much trouble! Love, Mom_

She looked for more, but there was nothing more, not even a return address. _What a jerk_, she thought. _This "Maka's" mom just up and left?_ She sighed, and then replaced the postcard in the frame. At least she knew whose room it was. She examined the calendar next.

It was well used; dates were crossed out and written on with messages like, "Practice today!" and "EAT Class Exam". She flipped back some pages, and more annotations popped out at her: "Soul's Birthday! J", "Kid's Party", and one particularly bold one "**SUPER WRITTEN EXAM**". _Who are "Kid" and "Soul"?_ Maka wondered. Flipping back to the most recent (or so it seemed- she had no idea what date it was) page, she saw half of the dates were crossed out the same style they were in the rest of the calendar, and the others were marked out with a different pen, and with checks instead of x's. She shrugged. She was about to go back to bed when a large, floor-to-ceiling picture startled her. Upon further inspection, she realized it was a mirror. She assessed her reflection, frightened.

She had no idea who the person in the mirror was. A small, teenage girl stared at her from the. The girl had large, green eyes, a petite nose, and thin lips. Her ash blonde hair was brushed into two neat buns near the top of her head, covered by two white bun holders with red trimmings. She was in a soft yellow pajama shirt and matching pants. There was a small red ribbon on the right side of her top, and she was wearing white slippers with borders that matched her bun holders.

Maka stepped backwards, and the girl stepped back too. She almost screamed. She scampered back to the bed, as well as someone injured _could_ scamper, and hid under the covers, tears falling down her face. A new question had presented itself and rooted itself deep in her mind.

_Who was she?_


	2. Chapter 2

**CH 2**

The days after Soul and Maka were discharged from the hospital were hectic. Spirit, now living with them, needed accommodations, and so did the medic (who turned out to be the same nurse who had attended to Soul in the emergency room). Her name was Rebecca, and- as Soul found out later- was Marie Mjolnir's younger sister. Spirit volunteered to sleep on the floor in Soul's room, and Rebecca took the couch in their living room. The small apartment had never been so crowded.

Soul, Rebecca, and Spirit had to form a plan as to which person was to be watching Maka when. Spirit was still in the service of Shinigami-sama, and Soul (meister-less, but still functional) was required to be present in DWMA for one-on-one Death Scythe training with Stein. Rebecca was to stay there during the day and attend to her nursing duties after Soul came home from school, and then he and Spirit would switch off overseeing Maka.

The only reason Maka was under constant surveillance was because the hospital couldn't give any specific diagnosis until she woke up again and went in for more testing. The damage could range from minor coma, to concussion, to (in the worst cases) brain damage. Her condition was stable, yet unknown. All they could do was wait for her to wake up and hope for the best.

The next few days went by with unfortunate haste. Soul was present to all his classes, but he couldn't focus. His mind was constantly wandering, (mostly wishing Maka would be awake by the time he got home) but he was worried about what Maka would say to him when she woke, and if he would blame her for what happened. He spent most days sitting silently in Maka's room, watching her sleep, and he spent most nights lying awake in his bed, the blues and greens of his room darkened by his thoughts. His mind was tortured by one thought: _What if the fall was his fault? _Grigori souls were very powerful- they had the ability to make both weapon and meister fly by sprouting wings on the former. This could only be attempted if both formed, and retained, an extremely strong soul resonance. The only way it could fail was if something- or someone- broke the resonance. Soul couldn't shake the dreaded feeling that _he_ broke it.

The only other time when Soul and Maka had fallen was when they had first undertaken flying. They managed to lift a good ten feet off the ground, when Spirit (who had shown up against Maka's will) told Soul to picture Maka as an angel so they would rise higher. Soul smiled at the memory. Instead of picturing Maka as an angel, images flashed by in his mind of the exact opposite: Maka yelling at him, furious, breathing fire, and those dreaded Maka chops. Completely distracted, they dropped like a stone, Maka landing on top of his human form. While it was laughable later on, it only worsened Soul's suspicions of their fall.

One afternoon, after a very eventful visit from Kid, Liz, and Patty (in which the vase of flowers brought over by Liz was broken by Patty herself in a very ecstatic romping around Maka's room), Soul was making lunch for himself when he heard someone shuffling around. He mentally checked to make sure he was the only one in the house (other than Maka) at the moment, and then finally dared to believe she was awake.

Soul walked over to Maka's door and took a deep breath. He gently pushed the door open.

"Maka?"

Maka heard footsteps approaching the door, so, tentatively, she peeked out of the covers.

"Maka?" A white haired boy stood in the doorframe. His shoulders were slouched, and his hands were in his pockets. He was wearing a white tee shirt and a simple pair of black jeans. He wore a thin black headband, and a goofy smile was plastered across his face.

"Um… who are you?" Maka asked. "And for the record, I'm not Maka."

The young man furrowed his brow in confusion. "Ha-ha, Maka, you're very funny. So you're up… _Finally_," he said, grinning and stepping into the room.

She shook her head. "No, you're mistaken. This room belongs to Maka, but I'm not her. I'm-" She paused. She didn't really know who _she_ was, for that matter.

The boy cocked his head and knit his eyebrows. "So you're telling me you're not Maka… then who are you?"

"I- uh, well, I'm not sure." She stammered, confused. The boy came closer to the bed. He knelt down so he was eye level with her.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked slowly, looking down.

"No," Maka answered in a whisper.

And when he met her gaze again, she saw the pain in his eyes.

* * *

Soul went numb. He swallowed his sadness and faced Maka again. She was looking straight at him, perplexed but empathetic. That was his Maka, always considerate no matter the circumstances. His Maka…. His Maka that didn't even know who _he_ was. Soul blinked back tears and pursed his lips.

"Are you okay? Um, I didn't mean to cause trouble…" Maka asked, trailing off at the end.

"Yeah. Totally. I, um, am going to go call Rebecca-uh, the nurse taking care of you," he stuttered.

"Well, thank you," Maka said, grinning at him, almost shattering Soul's heart. He responded with a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.

Soul silently walked out of the room, closed the door, and leaned on the colorless doorframe for support. He slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands.  
Rebecca had warned him this could happen, but Soul never once lingered on the prospect of it. He was overjoyed that Maka had woken and wasn't showing any signs of brain damage (just yet), but the fact that she didn't remember her own name or even… who he was. It was _that_ thought that crushed Soul the most. Maka and him had been best friends for years, sometimes even more than that. They were partners, allies, and Soul Mates (as one of the higher ups with a sense of humor named the weapon/meister pairings). He couldn't bear the fact that all of experiences he and Maka had been through could possibly be gone from her memories, in some dark recess of her mind that might never be accessed again.

Soul sighed, then gradually stood up, clutching the wall for reinforcement. He knew he needed to call Rebecca and tell her that Maka was awake, so he made his way to the phone in the kitchen. Dialing Rebecca's number, he twisted the phone cord around his fingers anxiously. _Please pick up…_ Soul pleaded silently. He had no idea how he would deal with Maka if left to his own devices.

"Hello?" Rebecca's voice sounded on the other end of the line.

Soul took a deep breath. "Hey Rebecca. It's me- uh, Soul. Yeah, I just wanted to call and tell you Maka woke up," he said.

"Oh, that's great! I'll be right over. In the meantime," she paused, and Soul heard rustling in the background.

"Sorry, kinda hard to talk when you're packing up your stuff," Soul could almost hear her smile. She continued. "Anyways, in the meantime, have you talked to her?"  
He swallowed. "Yeah… That's the problem. She- um, well, she doesn't remember who she is."

Rebecca was silent for a second. "Oh. Well, did she recognize you?" she asked.

"No. She didn't," Soul choked out.

"Soul, I'm so sorry…" Rebecca trailed off.

"No, it's fine. Just get back here so we can fix her, kay?" he responded, his cool guy act returning.

"Um, yeah. I need to go drop off a few files really quickly, and then I'll be back. It shouldn't take to long- and Spirit should be home soon- but just in case, give Maka some water and some food. Also, she probably has a killer headache, so grab some painkillers from the red bottle in the kitchen; 32 milligrams maximum, depending on her pain level- that's three tablets. And-" Rebecca stopped. "Information overload?"

"No, I think I got it. What else?" Soul asked.

"And… look after her, Soul," she said, hanging up the phone.

Soul listened to the dead line for a minute, then placed it back on the receiver. Sighing, he called Spirit, bracing himself for whatever he was going to say.

Instead, a mechanical female voice answered. "Sorry, the number you called is not available. To leave a message, press one and wait for the tone."

Soul heard a beep, then he said, "Hey, Spirit, it's Soul. Just wanted to tell you your daughter's awake, so if you wanna come home, now's a good time."

He hung up, then went to make Maka some lunch. Looking around the kitchen, he noticed the bright colors that usually cheered him up seemed particularly dull right then- or maybe it was just him. Soul tried to distract himself with cooking, but his heart ached with the thought that his best friend was gone. Well, not gone, but out of commission. He nearly smiled at his own thoughts. He didn't know for sure, but Soul hoped there was some way for Maka to retrieve her memories. For now, though, the girl he trusted with his life didn't know who he was.

The beeping of the oven timer woke Soul from his trance. He poured the curry over some rice he had made earlier, only then realizing he has subconsciously prepared Maka's favorite dish. Smirking to himself, he poured some water into a small glass and grabbed three painkillers. He set them all on a tray and carried it to her room.

Soul stopped outside Maka's door, trying to mentally compose himself. _There are other times to mope_, he told himself. _Right now, you need to take care of Maka. And-_

A voice interrupted his pep talk. "You know, you can come in. You don't have to just stand there."

Soul inhaled sharply and almost dropped the tray. He gently pushed open the door, and saw a smiling Maka sitting up in bed.

"Um…" Soul stood in the doorframe like a deer in the headlights. He mentally slapped himself, then continued. "How did you know to trust me?" He asked, raising one eyebrow.

"I don't trust you, I just didn't want you standing at the door like a dork." She said. Soul smiled inwardly. Memory-less or not, Maka was still her kind but snarky self.

"And anyways, you seem like a nice enough guy," She smiled again.

"I'm not so sure about nice, but I am pretty cool," Soul said, placing the tray on her nightstand. "Yeah. So I brought you some painkillers, if you need them, and some curry. It's your f-" He stopped.

"It's what?" Maka stared at him skeptically.

"Uh, nothing," Soul replied. He paused for a moment while contemplating a new-formed idea. He wasn't sure if it was going to work, but he decided to try it.

"One more thing…" He started.

Maka looked up at him curiously. "Yes?"

"Does the name 'Soul Evans' mean anything to you?" He asked.

Maka thought for a bit, and then shook her head sympathetically. "Sorry, no."

Soul smiled sadly. "I didn't think so," he mused. "But it was worth a shot."

He waved and turned to exit her room. He walked slowly towards the door, his mind full of uncertainty, doubt and most of all: anguish. What if she would never remember? What would happen then? His face was a façade of pain as he pondered these thoughts. He was almost out of the room when he heard Maka's voice.

"Wait a second," she called.

Soul turned around. "What's up?" he asked, trying to mask his grief.

"What's your name?" Maka asked, inquisitive.

"Soul Evans," he said softly, walking out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**CH 3**

"So, she doesn't remember anything?" a blue haired boy asked. The young man Maka knew as Soul shook his head.

"No. She doesn't, unfortunately," he responded, looking at his shoes.

"I'm sorry, Soul," a lovely, black haired girl said sympathetically.

Maka turned away from her hiding spot behind her door. The once clear voices merged into a blur as she stepped away from the frame. _So, they were talking about her, _she thought. _Well, who wasn't?_ Ever since she woke she'd had plenty of visitors, all of which she didn't remember. Most gave her hugs and asked, "Do you remember me?" and when she said no they gave her a sad smile and started chatting about the person she'd been. Unfortunately, she couldn't remember what most of them looked like, but she did recall the blue haired boy and his pretty friend coming around soon after she woke up.

The worst part about the visits was everyone calling her "Maka". She had come to terms with the fact that she was Maka, but it still felt foreign. She also knew she had friends, but were they really her friends if she didn't know them? It was questions like these that kept her awake night after night. It was strange, knowing that she had a history but absolutely no recollection of it.

From her hospital visits, she had found out she had a condition called amnesia. Maka learned that it could either be temporary or permanent, depending on the severity, but only time would tell. Usually temporary amnesia lasted only a day or two, but since she was still memory-less 72 hours later, they had ruled prospect out. Though, the doctor told her not to lose hope, because it was possible that she could still access her memories, but gradually. Again, she would just have to wait and see. There was nothing in particular Maka could do to help speed up that process (or even make it happen), so she was left to lament in her condition while strangers fussed over her.

There was one thing that puzzled her, though. Every time someone was in her presence, she could feel something. She wasn't sure what, but she knew if she concentrated hard enough she could see a small shape of whatever she had sensed. They looked like tiny orbs, all different colors and sizes. Some had small appendages, and Maka speculated they each appeared to be a reflection of the person's appearance, even if it was just a little bit. This ability, power, whatever it was, made the visits a little better. She would play games to see if she could guess what the next visitor looked like, or what their personality was, or (god forbid) how they would react to her empty-mindedness.

The sound of a door closing interrupted Maka's thoughts, signaling the guests had left. She jumped into bed and pulled the covers up to her neck, facing away from the door. She listened to Soul's footsteps come towards her door and stop in front of them. She felt the familiar presence of the orange orb that resided within him, and Maka trained her ears on his unmoving form. Holding her breath, she heard his hand turn the doorknob with a click… but for third time that day he let go and walked away.

* * *

The night after Maka woke up was rough. It started out normally enough; about an hour after Soul had called Rebecca, she showed up. She was extremely helpful, taking care of her and keeping Soul out of Maka's unintentionally depressing actions. The rest of the afternoon went by quickly, with Rebecca tending to Maka's every need, scheduling hospital appointments for her and doing all sorts of tests to make sure Maka had no immediate threats to her condition. Soul was Rebecca's faithful assistant, running in and out of the room to bring her whatever she needed. Soul avoided Maka's gaze when he entered and re-entered her domain. She looked at him with a certain sadness, as if she had hurt him. And while she had caused him a regrettable amount of pain, it wasn't her fault. Soul tried to look cheerful- or at the least unfazed- while managing Rebecca's errands, but he mostly tried to stay out of the room.

When six o'clock rolled around, Rebecca stepped out of Maka's room, closed the door, and then checked her watch.

"Hmm. Spirit should be here soon. I have to go take care of some nurse-ly duties at the ER, but I'll be back before ten," she said, grabbing her bag. "Maka's asleep, and may wake up in a few hours. Contrary to what you would think, the poor girl needs sleep. Don't make too much noise."

Soul nodded. "Thanks for your help."

Rebecca grabbed Soul's shoulders so he was facing her. "No, thank _you_. I know this has been hard on you, and you have been a wonderful assistant," she finished, smiling. Rebecca gave Soul a hug then left the apartment in a whirlwind.

Soul fell down on the couch. He was worn out from running around the tiny home all day. He was mentally exhausted as well; Maka's condition was taking its toll on everyone. Soul had refrained from showing his emotions all day- he wanted to cry, scream, _anything_. His heart ached with the loss of Maka as she used to be, but instead of moping about it, he promised himself he would do all everything in his power to help her retrieve her memories. Smiling at own stubborn resolve, Soul pushed himself off the couch to make himself dinner.

He was almost in the kitchen when he heard a frantic knocking at the door. Soul walked over and unbolted it, letting a panicked Spirit in the room.

Spirit started talking in a rush. "Hey Soul I got your message sorry I couldn't come earlier there was an incident with Stein and Marie it's fixed now though where's Maka MAKA I'M HERE PAPA'S HOME-"

"Whoa, hold on!" Soul half whispered, half shouted.

Spirit looked down at him, confused. "For one, be quiet," Soul said through gritted teeth. He didn't have the patience for Spirit's crazy antics.

"Maka is sleeping. You need to be quiet; she needs to rest. Rebecca's orders. And-" Soul took a deep breath. He didn't want to break the news to Spirit, who clung to his daughter like she was all he had left… Which, unfortunately, was the truth. Soul quickly cleared those thoughts from his mind. He had enough 'depressing' for today.

He cleared his throat and continued. "And, Maka has, what Rebecca calls, amnesia. Meaning, she can't remember anything, anyone, or even who she is."

Spirit looked stunned for a moment, then he bowed his head, turned back towards the door, and opened it.

"Hey!" Soul yelled, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "Where are you going?"

"Out… Um, somewhere," Spirit said softly, still facing the door.

Soul felt white-hot rage boil up within him. This man, absent from most of his daughter's life, was about to walk out the door when she needed him most.

Lowering his voice menacingly, Soul grabbed Spirit's arm to keep him from leaving. "Spirit, What. The. Hell. You are going to leave when Maka needs you most?" Soul had to fight to keep his voice down. "You owe it to Maka to stay. How dare you leave and go to some club while your _daughter_ is lying in bed, injured?!"

Spirit turned around, his eyes brimming with tears and fury outlining his features. He faced Soul and practically spit out venom.

"You don't get it! She's all I have left, and at least when she was _fine_ she acknowledged my existence. Even if she hated me, I was still her only family! Now she won't even recognize me. I've lost everyone I love-" Spirit stopped, choking up for a moment. He looked away for a second, wiping away tears, and then he swallowed and turned back towards Soul, fire in his eyes.

"But you wouldn't understand, would you? She _loved_ you; you aren't even special. She would have been fine **if you hadn't dropped her**! This is your fault. Now let go of me, _Soul_."

Dazed, Soul dropped his arm and Spirit stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Spirit was nowhere to be found. Soul explained, with reluctance, what had happened between them that night after Rebecca returned home. Rebecca told Soul not to blame himself, that Spirit was probably emotionally stressed, and that he would turn up soon enough. But as midnight came and went, Soul doubted it. Rebecca told Soul to sleep, but he stayed up, looking out the window. Eventually, Soul didn't know exactly when, he drifted off. He woke up a while later, his forehead resting on the cool glass. Primarily he was confused, but when he saw an empty mattress on his floor, it all came flooding back. And- for the first time in a long time- Soul wept.


	4. Chapter 4

**CH 4**

The next morning, Soul and Rebecca brought Maka to the hospital. They woke a surprisingly grumpy Maka up at 8am and shuttled her into the ER. There, the doctors dressed her in a sheet and showed her to a room. They performed various tests on her, Maka cooperating hesitantly but fully. (Soul figured she looked a bit like a rabbit in an experiment.) After an hour of many physicians and even more assessments, a tall, black haired doctor brought back the results.

The small room seemed to shrink even more as he stepped int. He gave Maka a sympathetic smile, and then faced Rebecca with a serious expression on his face.

"I'm afraid our little girl here has a condition called amnesia," he said, pushing up his glasses.

Soul looked at Rebecca, who nodded. "That's what I feared," she said solemnly. "Could it be temporary?"

Soul perked up when he heard the last part. _Temporary_, he thought, _Could that mean Maka might remember me after all? _Maka also seemed to snap out of a trance at the sound of the word.

The doctor flipped a few pages on his clipboard. "I'm not sure. If she's been awake for about twenty-four hours now…" He glanced down at his notes, and then continued. "Well, most T.A. patients- Temporary Amnesia patients, sorry- snap out of it in the first twelve to eighteen hours. There _have_ been some cases that come out of it later, but those are more rare."

The room went silent for a minute, until Maka quietly cleared her throat. Everyone looked at her

"So, is there any chance I could get my memories back… at all?" she asked, a hard determination in her eyes. Soul knew that look; he almost smiled until the doctor spoke up.

"Unfortunately, I don't think so. There is, however, a possibility that you could remember things in bits and pieces. They may come to you in dreams or flashes, so don't be shy to ask about them. But as for full recovery," he smiled sadly. "Let's say even retaining _some_ memories is highly unlikely."

Rebecca's lips were pressed into a hard line, seemingly deep in thought. "Thank you, Doctor Akio. We'll be back tomorrow for the follow-up," she said, grinning and masking whatever she was thinking before.

Soul took a deep breath, and then reflected on what the doctor had said. Her memory might be restored in pieces, so that meant she might remember him and she might go back to close to normal and she might-

He shook his head, scattering his thoughts. Soul was getting ahead of himself. This was only on a case-by-case basis, and he was forgetting the key word: might. Even though he refused to think to far ahead, Soul smiled in spite of himself. Maka_ might_ get better, and that's all that mattered.

Just as they were leaving, the doctor spoke up. "There may be one more way to trigger Maka's memory… If something, or someone, how do you say, struck the right chord on the piano of Maka's brain, she might be shocked into remembering."

Rebecca, Soul, and Maka turned around, shocked. Doctor Akio laughed.

"Though, that's highly unlikely."

Fours hospital check-ups, seven diagnoses, nineteen visitors, and 48 hours later, Soul was sitting on the couch when the doorbell rang. Exhausted and exasperated, Soul did not want another well-meaning guest. Sure, they were nice, but they constantly reminded him that a) Maka wasn't doing any better, and b) the visitors were not Spirit. He had been gone for two days now, not a hint as to where he had gone. And even though Soul was thoroughly pissed at him, he was worried. Spirit had never disappeared this long, and Soul was starting to blame himself for yet another incident.

Sighing, Soul picked himself up off the couch and opened the door. To his surprise, Black*Star and Tsubaki were stood waiting for him. Tsubaki smiled at him.

"Hey, Soul!" she beamed.

"Hey, um, Tsubaki, come on in," Soul stammered, startled.

Black*Star stepped inside the apartment. "Sorry for dropping by unannounced, but here we are! I know, I know, we just made your day."

Tsubaki smiled again followed him, and they both sat down on the couch. Soul took a seat to the right of them, still confused and a little shocked.

"I thought you guys were still on a mission, or at least that's what Spirit told me," Soul remarked."We _were_ on a mission," Black*Star answered. "Until we heard Maka woke up. So we defeated the evil forces and came back here. Piece of cake." He leaned back, placing his hands behind his head.

"We would've been here sooner, but Black*Star here decided we had to stay and actually finish the mission," Tsubaki commented."You guys finished a full scale mission in under two days? That's almost unheard of!" Soul exclaimed, shaking his head.

"Piece of cake," Black*Star repeated, smirking. "We had friends in need. Speaking of which, where is Maka?"

Soul paused. "She's sleeping now, ("Hasn't she done enough of that?" asked Black*Star) but, um, she has a condition called amnesia, so she doesn't have any memories or recollection of herself before she woke up."

Black*Star shifted forward, clearly surprised, and Tsubaki stifled a gasp. Soul glanced sadly at their shocked expressions, and then gave them a blow-by-blow of the whole ordeal, even including the fight with Spirit. Black*Star interjected comments and questions every now and then, and Tsubaki listened silently and wide eyed.

When Soul finished, there was a long silence which Black*Star eventually broke. "So, she doesn't remember _anything_?" he asked."No. She doesn't, unfortunately," Soul responded, staring at his shoes.

"I'm sorry, Soul," Tsubaki said sympathetically.

"Well, there was nothing... Nothing _you_ could have done," Soul implored, stressing the "you". He still had his doubts about the fall, and they kept nagging in the back of his head. Ever since Spirit had stormed out, Soul felt even more at fault. He had barely slept at all; he spent most nights staring at his wall, trying to block out the noise in his mind. It didn't help that he was still getting over his multiple injuries (that of which the author did not mention because the stories main plot _is_ about Maka). Add all of that together, well, Soul was surprised he didn't look like hell.

"Don't tell me you blame yourself for this, Soul," Tsubaki asked, looking concerned.

"No, no, not at all," Soul blurted quickly, smiling and shaking his head in reassurance. He glanced at Tsubaki, who didn't look convinced. It was then that he wondered why he was lying to some of his most trusted friends.

Soul put those thoughts aside and continued on, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the room.

"So, anyways, I'm sorry you guys didn't get to see her. Maybe if you come by tomorrow…" he trailed off as the pair shot him another sympathetic look.

"That's okay, Soul. We should go; we haven't even gone home yet," Tsubaki smiled and headed towards the door. Black*Star stayed put, staring at Soul.

"Hey, if you need anything, uh, we'll be here, okay? Don't forget we can help you." Black*Star said quietly. He waved at Soul, and then crossed the threshold out of the apartment after Tsubaki, down the stairs, and through the front door into the warm, summer air.

* * *

There was commotion in the house, and Maka had no idea why. She had just woken up from a rather satisfying nap when she heard Rebecca and Soul engaged in a loud conversation. Curious as usual, she tiptoed over to the door and pressed her ear against the wooden door.

"I can't believe you forgot, Soul!" she heard Rebecca's high-pitched voice say in exasperation. Maka wondered what the white haired boy had done this time.

"I'm sorry, it's not that important okay? I-" Soul responded, clearly annoyed.

"It's your own birthday, for goodness sakes!" Rebecca interrupted. Soul continued.

"I was to busy to remember because of this whole amnesia thing, okay? Chill out and stop yelling, you're going to wake Maka."

Maka, still listening intently, pulled her ear away from the door slowly. _Soul forgot his own birthday… because of me? _She thought, guilt forming in the pit of her stomach. She sat down on the cool tiled floor, hugging her knees to her chest. She was causing so much trouble for all of them; Maka just wanted to regain her memories again. Not even for her own sake anymore, but for the others. They were being so vigilant, taking care of her every moment of the day, comforting her, when she didn't even know them. The worst part about it was, there was a small feeling tugging at her that she did know these people, but she couldn't place from where or why. You know that feeling you get when you see someone familiar but don't have a clue who they actually are, but there's a connection? Well, Maka felt that every moment of her existence- even though it'd only five days since she'd actually woken up.

And, _god_, was Maka tired. Two days after she'd spied on Soul's conversation with the blue haired boy and his tall, pretty friend (she later learned their names were "Black*Star" and "Tsubaki", and that they were some of her closest friends, which made her feel even worse), Maka was constantly doing one of five things: entertaining visitors, eating, playing her "guess-person-from-her-weird-orb-vision" game, getting examined by doctors, or sleeping. A lot of it. Maka would have thought that having slept for about a week was enough, but on the contrary, she was constantly tired and passing out at every opportunity she got. It helped her in two ways, 1) she was exhausted and therefore needed sleep, and 2) she didn't have to look into the eyes of those she had broken with her condition. Because, that… that hurt her the most.

After brooding over these thoughts for a few minutes, she realized she was quite hungry, and she would have to eventually leave the peaceful solitude of her room. Maka stood up, brushed herself off, and crossed her room over to the huge wardrobe by her bed. She opened it yet again, hoping for the millionth time that seeing her possessions would bring back some memories, but for the millionth time, she was disappointed as she stared at the pieces of fabric hanging lifelessly. She looked over her choices, assessing which one she should wear.

Maka stood staring at the clothes until she started to develop a headache. She sighed, and picked out a short blue skirt with a white jacket. _Practical enough_, she thought. She quickly changed and headed out of her room; the conversation between Soul and Rebecca had seemingly died down.

She stepped out into the apartment quietly, and, hearing the sound of someone washing dishes, she walked into the kitchen to find Soul with his back to her, washing dishes. He was wearing in a an orange t-shirt, grey pants, a thin black headband, and an adorning black jacket with the collar turned up, and Maka could hear the faint buzz of music escaping his headphones.

"Hi Soul," she said loudly, trying to reach him through the sound barrier. Soul pulled one ear bud out, and turned around, rolling his eyes.

"Rebecca, I told you, just drop it- Maka! Oh, hi, sorry, I thought you were Rebecca. Sorry," Soul responded, a little flustered. They both stared at each other for a minute, until Soul turned away to shut off the sink.

"So, I heard it was your birthday tomorrow," she said guiltily, breaking the silence and looking at the ground.

Soul blinked. "Oh, yeah, uh, about that. No need to worry, it's nothing special," he smiled, placing both hands behind him and leaning against the sink.

"June 1st?" Maka crossed one arm and placed a finger on her chin, thinking for a moment. "I think I have that on my calendar."

Soul dropped his hands, clearly surprised.

"You do?" he asked softly.

* * *

**Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading so far! I've been posting chapters pretty frequently, but that's only because I had quite a few saved up. Stories take a while to update, unfortunately, so I'll be trying to post a new chapter every week. Again, thanks, and reviews are very helpful!**


	5. Chapter 5

**CH 5**

"You do?" Soul asked softly, staring deep into Maka's eyes.

"Yeah… Uh, yes. I was looking through my calendar when I saw it. Just wanted to let you know…" she trailed off and looked at the ground again, seemingly uncomfortable.

Soul smiled slightly. _So Maka remembered, _he thought to himself, allowing himself a little time to finally be happy. _She remembered my birthday, even when I didn't._

He cleared his throat. "So, uh, do you want something to eat?" he asked her, turning back to the dishes.

"Oh! Yes, actually. I can make it myself, probably, um, I'd just need to look around-"

"Don't worry. I got it," Soul interrupted her, waving his hand behind him. "What do you want?"

"Whatever is left over," she replied, eyes still trained on the ground.

"Okay, cool. It'll be ready in about ten minutes," he affirmed, turning his head slightly. "Unless… you want to help?"

_Now where did that come from? _Soul thought to himself, surprised at himself. He would have been fine having Maka help him prepare the food earlier, but now… now it'd just be awkward. Ah, damn, why did she make him so flustered?

Maka interrupted his thoughts. "Yeah, actually. I've been feeling pretty useless around here lately, so I'd love to help."

Soul nodded, playing it cool. Why was this such an issue? This was his best friend he was talking too- well,_ was _his best friend. But it shouldn't have mattered… should it? Soul stared at the soapy water running through his fingers, pondering over his thoughts.

"Okay then, maybe we can make something," he implored, shaking off his doubt and hesitation. He dried off his hands, and opened one of the cabinets to the left of the sink. He scanned its contents, his hands roaming over each item until he found the correct one.

"How about _Frijoles rojos y arroz_?" He asked, pulling out a can of red beans. "I think I remember a really great recipe…"

"Sounds great," Maka replied, a bit distracted.

Soul paused, knitting his brow. So she had recognized the Spanish he used… That was odd. He thought back to their Spanish class; all DWMA students were required to learn a world language. And when Maka had insisted they took the same thing, Soul compromised (he wanted to learn Italian) and they both enrolled in Spanish. Needless to say, they excelled in the yearlong class. They both used to insert little Spanish phrases into their everyday conversations, initially for practice, but it had eventually become habit for both of them. But now, she seemed to translate automatically in her head, even though she had amnesia. _Think later, _Soul told himself. _She's probably starving; stop zoning._

He pulled out a cutting board from under the cabinet, onions, rice, sausage, mentally checking off items in his head and gliding around the kitchen in a focused trance. Once he'd gathered all of the ingredients, Soul cleared the dishes he'd been cleaning off the oven and swiftly twisted the dial to High. He then grabbed the bag of rice sitting in the bottom cupboard, and turned back to Maka.

"Okay, I think this is all we'll need…" He trailed off, staring at her outfit for a minute. Blue pleated skirt, a matching blue t-shirt just barely peeking out of a DWMA regulated white jacket… Suddenly, Soul had a devious idea.

"We should be able to start now, but I think you should put on an apron. Wouldn't want to dirty such a cute outfit, would you?" he said, turning away, not waiting for her reaction. Soul had no idea where this cocky side of him was coming from, but he decided he didn't dislike it all that much. He reached into the pantry and pulled one of the aprons off the hook. It was simple, pink, and stained from all of Soul and Maka's various cooking experiments.

When he turned back, Maka seemed frozen. A slight pink tone crept up on her cheeks. Soul held out the apron in front of him and walked right up to Maka, where he stood only about a foot away. She reached out for it slightly, but Soul slipped it over her head for her. Soul noted it was one of the only times Maka actually left her hair down; even after she'd woken up, Rebecca insisted on putting it up for her. He gently untucked the ash blonde strands from the apron, and then he stepped back and smirked, tilting his head to admire his, well, apron skills.

Maka, on the other hand, seemed a bit flustered. She reached back to tie the ends together, but Soul reached out and caught her hand.

"Allow me," he mused, slipping around her to grab both strings in back of her. His hands brushed slightly over her waist, tying two strands together into a neat bow. Soul looked up to see a light red hue creep around her face and onto her ears. Suddenly aware of how intimate the situation was, he let go of the apron hastily stepped away from her.

A silence fell over the small apartment, and for a minute the ticking of the hands on the clock were the only thing moving. Soul took a moment to reflect on his actions. He was being completely irrational. Maka didn't even remember him, and now he was, what's the word… _flirting_ with her. He wondered why he was even flirting in the first place- Maka was his friend. His partner. Or was she? She was awfully cute in an apron. But that was just Maka! She was cute and lovable and stubborn as hell. He decided to consider his thoughts later, and deal with the awkward silence at hand. Maka seemed to regain her composure first, and she around to face Soul, though her eyes stayed trained on the ground.

"So, um, where did Rebecca go?" she inquired. Soul snapped out of his trance quickly enough to hear what she'd said.

"Oh, yeah, she wanted me to give you a message. She went out, um, some nurse-ly duties to take care of, you know? But she said she'd be back in a couple hours, and she also said she wanted to talk to you? I don't exactly remember," Soul scrunched up his face and scratched his head, shrugging. Maka had laughed when he said 'nurse-ly', but then went back to looking down and fidgeting with her skirt.

"We're home alone?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah… Um, I guess we are," Soul stuttered. Another silence fell over the room. Soul decided to break it this time.

"So… we should probably start cooking?" he proposed, turning back to the countertop with all of the ingredients.

"Good idea," Maka said, tilting her head and smiling. "I'm really hungry, actually."

"Okay, let's start then," Soul clapped his hands together. He picked up a measuring cup and handed it to Maka. "Would you like the honor of making the rice?"

Maka bowed jokingly and smiled. "I would love too."

All previous feelings aside, they both set to work. Soul fell into his regular kitchen rhythm, usually doing two things at once. He chopped up celery and parsley, threw the beans in boiling water, and then proceeded to add spices and other garnishes. As he slipped into the trance of his work, his mind wandered to other pressing issues. Soul was pleased to be spending time with Maka, but there was always an uncomfortable atmosphere when they were alone together. He had to constantly remind himself she wasn't the same Maka that he'd…

Soul stopped himself before he let his thoughts venture there. Instead, he turned his attention back to Maka, who was reading the directions on the rice bag intently. He smiled. _That's how she always used to work_, he thought. _Always so keen on following the directions._

Back before the fall, before she lost her memories, before a wall was built between Soul and Maka, they used to cook together. Soul loved to cook, and he was the only one to prepare the meals. Then one day, Maka expressed interest in learning how to cook. She insisted she needed help, and Soul, who would've preferred to do it alone, reluctantly agreed to teach her. Long story short, it didn't go well. Maka was always bent on making the dish exactly as the recipe directed, and Soul, on the other hand, loved to improvise and estimate. He tried to explain to Maka that the art of cooking wasn't about being precise and following instructions; it was about the creative process. (Soul rarely was passionate about anything… except cuisine.) But Maka refused and tried to even convince Soul it tasted better with following directions, that directions were written for a reason. They couldn't settle the dispute, so they decided to let their friends decide whose tasted better. They invited Black*Star, Tusbaki, Death The Kid, Liz, and Patty to judge, and Soul and Maka each made a separate dish using the same recipe, but each with their different methods. In the end, no one won. Tsubaki liked Soul's better, Kid sided with Maka's dish (being a strict perfectionist himself), while Patty, Liz, and Black*Star devoured the food with little notion of actually judging it. Everyone had a wonderful time, and they both put aside their differences for that one night…

* * *

Maka squinted at the directions on the package. _Okay_, she thought to herself, _boil water, pour the rice in, stir, and then let it simmer for 20 minutes. Seems simple enough. _She grabbed the measuring cup and scooped out the correct amount of rice. She then poured it into the pot of boiling water, slowly, as so not to splash scalding water on herself. Maka opened the drawer to the left of the stove and pulled out the nearest utensil, which happened to be a fork. She delicately stirred the rice, thinking about the white haired boy standing a mere five feet away. She watched him travel about the kitchen with a relaxed but concentrated look on face. The fork shifted lightly between her fingers, dipping in and out of the pot as she stared, deep in thought.

_He's quite beautiful when he works_, Maka thought. Suddenly, as if she had actually said what she'd thought aloud, Maka covered her mouth in surprise, blushing, and, in turn, dropping her fork. It fell to the tiled floor with a loud clatter.

"I'm so sorry!" she stammered, her face turning a bright red. Soul snapped out of his trance and looked over.

"It's fine, Maka. Chill," he walked over, bent down, and picked up the fork. Having just been in boiling water, the utensil was searing hot. Soul yelped and dropped the fork again.

_What a dork, _Maka thought, smiling, and reaching down to pick up what Soul had dropped. He stared at the fork in her hand quizzically for a moment, raising one eyebrow.

"You're stirring rice with a fork?" he asked. _Of course I am,_ she thought, rolling her eyes.

"Yes," Maka responded, deciding to keep her snarky comments to herself. Soul extended his arm and quickly touched the handle of the fork. He flinched back, surprised.

"Uh, Maka, that fork is still hot. Like, burning hot," he said. Maka peered down to the fork grasped tightly in her grip. She tested it with her other hand.

She shrugged. "Not to me."

"Well, back to the original issue," Soul reached over and gingerly took the fork from her and quickly dropped it onto the countertop. "You do not make rice with a fork. Or a spoon, for that matter." He opened a drawer and pulled out something that Maka figured looked like a small paddle.

"Isn't that used for sports?" she remarked, crossing her arms. Soul laughed.

"You're so stubborn, even without remembering who you are!" He tossed her the object. "It's a rice paddle. Use it."

He turned away before Maka could formulate a witty comeback. _Stubborn?_ Who did he think he was to call her stubborn? She felt flustered; she didn't need a stupid rice paddle, she was doing just fine with a fork. It was his fault he'd distracted her-

Maka abruptly pushed the thought away and dipped the rice paddle into the water. It was easier to use, she had to admit, but she still pouted every time she felt Soul eyes on her, watching her work. Thirty minutes later, their meal was ready, steaming and producing the most pleasant aroma Maka had ever experienced. She removed her apron, accidentally tousling her hair.

Soul came over and took the apron from her. He reached to grab it and their hands brushed. They blushed. Maka decided to focus on watching anything that wasn't him (but that was extremely hard, considering he was standing directly in front of her). All of sudden, he extended his arm and smoothed down her hair, gently laying it flat again. Maka took a deep breath as he did this and closed her eyes, not wanting to see the pain in his eyes. She knew it was there; she figured he was being so flirtatious with her was because he missed his best friend. And as much as she wanted to be, Maka couldn't help face the fact that "she" was gone, and Maka would never be able to fulfill Soul's dream-his dream to have _his _Maka back. His stubborn, fierce, loyal best friend. She took his hand and slowly removed it from her head.

"Did I give you permission to touch my hair?" she asked, faking a smile and raising one eyebrow. Soul grinned, then turned away to grab their lunch… just in time to miss Maka's smile disappear.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! (Reviews are helpful, please let me know if anything needs to be fixed)  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**CH 6**

Soul was alone in his room, musing over his thoughts. He lay on the soft blue bed, staring up at the countless posters on the wall in a content state somewhere between relaxation and sleep. Though his eyelids were heavy, his mind was spinning with thoughts from the day. He smiled to himself, thinking fondly of the afternoon. He really liked Maka, he decided then. It was a quick realization, but Soul had never been so sure of something. And even though the thought made him feel a slight twinge of guilt, he shut his eyes, falling asleep with the feeling of happiness dancing just before him.

Maka, on the other hand, could not sleep. She lay awake on her mattress, eyes rapt in attention as her mind swirled. It had only been a few days since she'd technically met Soul, but her feelings for him were surfacing fast. And she could. Not. Sleep. No matter how hard she tried, the soft comforter couldn't wrap her in enough warmth and, well, _comfort_, to drift off.

Her mind kept playing over the way Soul had flawlessly flirted with her when they were cooking. All sadness about the afternoon aside, Maka didn't think she necessarily didn't like it… That is to say, even though she pretty much turned into a tomato, she enjoyed the flirting. It felt, normal, in some odd way she couldn't quite place. For the first time since she could remember, she didn't feel like everyone was trying to tiptoe around her like she was fragile. And while she was arguably small, Maka felt strong. Kind of like… a fighter.

Maka covered her face with her soft, pink pillow, which muffled her exasperated groan. She rolled over on her sides, hair falling in her face. For the first time in a while, she had not put it up for bed, and it was starting to bother her. She huffed, blowing the strands away, but when they landed in an even more annoying position then before, she groaned again and flipped over. She squeezed her eyes shut.

_I didn't think I was an insomniac_, she thought after her close-the-eyes-and-go-to-sleep technique hadn't worked. Maka sighed and gave up fighting. She hopped out of her bed lightly, her injuries less handicapping now that they'd healed (more or less), and she turned on her light, sliding the dimmer down so no one would assume she was awake. She put her hands on her hips, flipping her hair out of her eyes lightly, and looked around the room for something to do.

She took note of the meticulous piles of books stacked and shelved throughout the room. _I must have been a big reader_, she thought. (Maka had gotten accustomed to saying "I" instead of "Maka", or, even worse: "this Maka character".) Walking over to the meticulously organized line of books on her windowsill, she picked up the most interesting one and examined it.

_The Art of a Death Scythe: Mastering You and Your Partner's Ability_, the cover said. _Written by Lord Death._ It was a beautiful book, though Maka noticed it looked very textbook-sized. With red trimmings and gold lettering, the black bound manuscript seemed the perfect bedtime story. She lay back down on her bed, arranging the pillows accordingly and opened it. _Hello, I'm Shinigami, known to some as Death himself! This is your EAT-level guide to mastering the art of soul resonance and perfecting your fighting technique…_ Maka read, and soon she found herself drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, Maka awoke with something heavy on her chest. She slowly opened her eyes to sunlight streaming into her room. Picking the object up, she realized it was the book she had been reading the night before. Her head pounded and she tilted it to glance at the clock beside her bead. _11:32_. Maka moaned and rubbed her head. She'd been up pretty late reading, but she had no idea where this sudden headache had come from. Sleepily, she figured she ought to get up sooner rather than later, so she got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, checking herself in the mirror to make sure she looked decent enough in case Soul was around.

She took a sharp breath, remembering the confusion that had kept her up for hours last night. Maka tried to straighten her hair out with a comb on her desk, but to no avail. She glanced at her appearance; dually noting that the boy that she maybe-sort of-kind of-possibly had feelings for was just outside her door. Deciding to change the casual outfit for something a little more, well, _cute_, she flung open her wardrobe dramatically. Her eyes skimmed over the possible combinations, landing on one she felt suitable. (Maka wouldn't say her fashion sense was exactly runway-worthy, but she took pride in being able to dress herself everyday and look presentable.) She dressed and pulled her hair into two pigtails, trying to mimic Rebecca's way of doing them. She reevaluated her reflection as she faced the mirror.

A small, button nosed girl faced her. Adorned in a rather flattering outfit, she wore a white skirt with a matching white-tailed jacket. Under the jacket, a white blouse peeked out, and a light pink scarf tucked beneath the jacket's collar tied the outfit together flawlessly.

_That's more like it_, Maka thought, grinning mischievously. She turned around a couple of times, checking every inch. Maybe before, she would have thought such an act was pretty pointless and stupid, but now, she had a very special someone on her mind. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped into the living room.

Soul sat on the couch, reading some magazine. "About time you woke up, I was started to get worried you'd fallen into another coma," he said half-jokingly, not looking up from his reading. Maka huffed, and muttered "Not funny" under her breath.

He looked up, about to apologize, when he froze.

* * *

_Holy. Shit. _Soul thought. When he'd lifted up his head, he was taken aback by Maka's appearance. It wasn't that she looked bad, no, not at all; Soul was very surprised for two very different reasons. First, Maka looked amazing. Plain and simple, his affection for her upped a notch when he saw how absolutely adorable she looked that morning. But he couldn't focus on that. There was something else that didn't allow him to linger on the first thought to long. _He realized she was wearing the exact same outfit as the day they had fallen._

Soul stifled a gasp as memories flooded his mind. Maka, falling, lifelessly hitting the ground, injured, sleeping, "_no chance of waking_"… All of the sadness he had so carelessly abandoned the night before came back, slamming into his chest and making it hard to breathe the only way pure, unadulterated pain can. Soul took a deep breath trying to calm down and formulate a sentence. He didn't realize his eyes were squeezed shut until he heard Maka calling him.

"Um, Soul? Are you okay?" she asked, concern echoing through her small voice. Soul took another breath and smiled as steadily as he could.

"Yeah, sorry, that was totally uncool. Just got a, um, really bad headache for a second," he lied. Pushing all previous thoughts out of his head, he inspected Maka's outfit.

"Wow," he feigned. "You look really nice today."

Maka blushed. "Thank you," she replied, tugging on her skirt. "Um…"

She started, trailing off.

"Yes?" Soul prompted, watching Maka fidget. And for all that was cute and innocent in the world, she was absolutely adorable.

"Um, I, uh, just wanted to say that you are really amazing Soul," she began, gaining confidence with every word. Soul suddenly fell in love with the way she said his name.

"You took care of me, and you've been so patient with me even though I had no Earthly idea who you were when this mess started. And, um, even though I still have little recollection of who you are, I know enough to figure out that you are the best friend I'll ever have. I am such a burden, but you never treated me any differently than you would have before. I'm really thankful for that, truly. Thank you for showing me how to cook yesterday, thank you for being so tolerant of me, and, um, I do love you, Soul."

Soul froze, watching Maka confess her feelings in front of him as she blushed profusely. A million thoughts whirled circles around his head, but all he could focus on was: _Did she just say she loved me?_

Maka dropped her head, embarrassed. Soul stood up slowly and walked over to her, wrapping his arms lightly around her. She tilted her chin up, and Soul saw tears clinging to her eyelashes. She grabbed his shirt and hugged him tighter, crying onto his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Soul," she whispered, tears still falling. Soul tipped his head quizzically.

"For what?" he asked softly.

"For not being able to be your best friend, for not being able to be your partner. I know I'm not who I was, but I will try hard to be. I know you miss her, me, I don't even know anymore," she said into his t-shirt.

"Maka," he said gently. "You don't need to be who you were. You're alive and I'm glad. That's all I care about. Yes, I'll admit I do miss you with all of your memories, but look on the bright side; we'll get to rediscover each other. Don't feel bad Maka. You don't know how long I've been waiting to say this, but… I love you too. I just didn't realize it was love until, well, now."

Maka stopped sniffling and lifted her head to face Soul with a tearstained face.

"That was really cliché," she smiled through her sadness. Soul grinned back, and without knowing exactly what he was doing, Soul leaned down and kissed her.

And, boy, was it a kiss. His lips met hers in a crashing of desire and just a little sadness. Soul pulled Maka closer by her waist, and with his free hand he cupped his hand under her chin to tilt her head closer. Everything was erased from their minds momentarily as they were interlocked; all Soul could focus on was how soft Maka's lips were. He opened his mouth slightly, allowing his tongue to gently brush across her mouth until she opened hers to let him in. Maka intertwined her fingers into Soul's hair, slowly brushing her hands though the soft, white strands. They kissed for what seemed like an hour as if they didn't need air to breathe.

Eventually, they broke off, panting slightly. Maka kept her eyes closed to savor the feeling for a bit longer. Soul smiled and hugged her close.

"I'm sorry, Maka Albarn, for making you feel like you needed to change."

* * *

**First of all, I apologize profusely for the updates- or lack thereof. You guys are the best readers in the world and this is the first update in more than a month, so I hope you enjoy. I should be able to update more frequently because school is winding down, but still, bear with me! A quick note: this is unbetaed, so I'm sorry about any mistakes. Thank you for reading!**


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